Fate Inheritance
by snickerslv100
Summary: Distraught over failing to save the Varden's leader Ajihad from the Urgals, dragon rider Eragon is easily persuaded by sorceress Trianna to summon a powerful spirit to give him strength. But somehow, they end up summoning a little girl with bright white hair and red eyes. What have they unleashed onto the world of Alagaesia?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Any material that could potentially be considered infringement of copyrights and trademarks should be considered the property of their respective creators or owners and you are reading this of your own freewill, so please refrain from doing so if you don't like graphic violence, explicit sexuality, pop culture references, vulgar language, polygamous relationships, random plot twists, character deaths, snakes, arranged marriages, or usage of drugs. Of course, some of those things may not even end up in the story, but I'd rather be better safe than sorry. Also, I tend to give cannon the proverbial finger.**

**Story Notes: This is a work-in-progress plot blurb without a definite direction for the plot as of now, so I'm perfectly open to suggestions. Reviews containing constructive criticism and praise will certainly speed up the updating; flames make my ego spontaneously implode with my muse following close behind, so try and refrain from that if you can. I'm writing this to flex my creative side and refine my writing, so don't be surprised if entire chapters get completely changed after they're initially uploaded. There are many clichés and stereotypes in fanfiction because it's been around for so long; I try for originality in my own way, and will likely give a shout-out to whatever other story gave me a basic idea or concept, though I've been reading for a long time and will likely forget where something came from. (Look through my favorites and add up the total word count...)**

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"I can't believe that I'm actually doing this," muttered Eragon. Carved into the stone floor of an out-of-the-way room in Tronjheim was an enormous and sophisticated thaumaturgical circle, which was a necessary preparatory step in the conjuration of spirits. The lines that constituted the circle were actually made of words and phrases in the Ancient Language, which would help to bind the entity they were summoning so that it would do their bidding. There were no surviving records of any known dragon riders dabbling in sorcery, so this was a momentous occasion.

Trianna smirked and said, "Me neither. But I guess I'm good at persuasion?" To get him to agree to this, she had waited for his dragon Saphira to fall asleep, before approaching him again. She had lamented his lack of power, saying that if he had more then he would've been able to save Ajihad's hunting party from the Urgal ambush. She knew exactly what to say to drive most people towards doing her bidding, but it was almost too easy to get Eragon to agree to this. It was as if he was already planning on doing something similar to give himself power, which would be foolhardy in the extreme.

"How much longer is it gonna take?" he asked quietly, looking cautiously over his shoulder. He wasn't sure, but it just seemed like summoning powerful spirits without permission while being honored guests of the Dwarves just seemed a little rude, or possibly even illegal. He wasn't sure if there were laws against practicing the arcane arts in haphazard ways, but he instinctively knew that Arya would chew him out if she ever discovered this. And for some reason, he really didn't want the beautiful Elven maiden to be angry with him.

"Just a bit more... there, no it's done. All you have to do is say what we practiced," answered Trianna, her deep cerulean eyes twinkling with wonder. She'd never heard of a dragon rider evoking a compact with a spirit, but she was very interested to see what the results would be. Experimentation in all aspects of her life truly fascinated her. This was one reason that becoming a member of Du Vrangr Gata was such an easy decision for her to make; the Varden gave enormous bursaries to the leader of the magic guild to be used for whatever research they deemed important.

He nodded and intoned in the Ancient Language, **"I, Eragon Son of None, in the name of the Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers, call forth my familiar. Let silver and steel be the essence, let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation, let red be the color I pay tribute to, let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall, let the four cardinal gates close, let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate, and let it be filled once with water, again with fire, again with earth, again with air, and again with lightning. Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling..."**

Upon completion of his aria, the glyphs carved expertly into the ground began to glow. The numinous miasma of crimson light erupting forth from the ground became too luminous to keep their eyes open. Howling winds rattled around the enclosed space, followed by the sound of unlimited shrieking souls. The cries of everything and nothing wrapped around the brains of both summoners, sending them to their knees in mental agony. The dazzling, malevolent light began to retreat, condensing down into a humanoid form before solidifying. The intense fiery glare slowly faded, until they could see a young girl standing in the center of the circle.

In a word, she was beautiful. She had hair as white as fresh winter snow, reaching down to her waist and spilling over her nude front to give her at least a modicum of privacy. Her skin was alabaster, almost like a doll in how her smooth and unblemished her body looked as it glowed in the residual light of the ritual. The girl opened her eyes, revealing a stunning pair of crimson irises that were cold and calculating. The child smiled in a predatory fashion, revealing her perfect teeth, which was nearly impossible in Alagaesia for anyone short of imperial nobility.

Trianna started internally panicking. Had she done something wrong? This ritual was supposed to call forth spiritual beings of awe inspiring power, not kidnap young spoiled brats from their wealthy homes. But then she sensed the enormous power held within the girl, which threw that thought right out the proverbial window. Or, more likely, this girl's appearance was caused by her drastically underestimating the inherent power of a dragon rider. Thus the efficient ritual, powered by a human battery, ended up conjuring a supernatural entity so powerful that it could take on corporeal form?

The young maiden looked at them with annoyance on her face, as if being ripped from her home realm and transported to an alien world were but a minor annoyance to her. Her piercing red eyes scanned her environment in a split second, and she felt no small amount of disdain for her summoners. They chose a very dreary place to do it, with nothing but stone as decor. Still, if they had enough power to summon her, maybe they could provide her with some amusement.

She'd have to test their worth first though.

The girl's presence was suffocating, her tiny body emitting enough spiritual pressure that Trianna dug her fingernails into her palm just to stay conscious. The atmosphere she was exuding was terrifying, laced with more killing intent than even the mighty shade Durza had been able to produce. Their mental fortifications were being battered without any apparent effort on the little girl's part, and their barriers were on the precipice of shattering when the something even stranger happened.

The silver sigil permanently burned into Eragon's hand, demarcating him as a dragon rider, began to glow brilliantly, the ethereal lumination washing over the room and slowly dominating the red light flowing from the girl. As soon as the silvery glow touched Trianna, all sense of terror and hopelessness was replaced with tranquility and a sense of vindication. She watched smugly as the two wavelengths of light battled for dominance in the tiny antechamber, noticing how the silver was slowly encroaching upon the red.

Am enormous crash echoed through the outside corridor, followed by the almighty roar of Saphira. _"Little one!"_ they all heard the draconic being project mentally as its deeply ingrained maternal instincts took over. The thick stone door was blasted off its hinges, and an enormous reptilian head shot into the room like a cobra snapping at its aggressor.

"No, Saphira!" yelled Eragon as he glared at the young girl. "We need to overpower her mentally, not physically. Lend me your strength!" His scaled companion stopped just short of clamping her serrated teeth around the young girl, hesitating between following the orders of her rider and raining a shitstorm of hellfire and brimstone down upon the creature that attempted to harm him. Her eyes glinted like the precious gems that were her namesake, and she retreated her neck slightly, though the deep growl she released reverberated through the room to show her displeasure.

The little girl blinked at this. "You, a human, just gave a command to a dragon, and it listened?" And it was a western dragon at that, a demonic creature in a completely different tier of strength than eastern holy dragons. A member of the Transcendent Kind, even a low ranking one belonging to the monstrous classification as opposed to the phantasmal or divine, was beyond the level of most men to even comprehend. She'd never heard of someone commanding one before.

The boy just nodded stupidly to answer her question, as if the thought that he couldn't command a dragon had never occurred to him before. Clearly he wasn't an intellectual.

As a result of her curiosity, she gave them a brief respite. It seemed that the boy that obviously powered the ritual was overflowing with energy, but most of it wasn't even his to begin with. No, it was the dragon's. So this boy was both siphoning energy from an extension of the world, and could command that intelligent beast that was separated from the rest of nature by birth. There were obviously some variable that she hadn't taken into account, because she clearly didn't understand the full story.

And she certainly would, with time.

The girl breathed in through her nose and scrunched it up slightly; the air down here was very stale, as if they were miles below the surface. "Upon your summoning, I have come forth. I ask of you: are you my master?" she said in a sweet, angelic voice, as if their previous struggle hadn't even happened. Her eyes of ruby pierced right into Eragon's hazel as she said this, and he could only nod dumbly at the pixie before him yet again. The creature before them was definitely not human.

What had they just unleashed onto the world?

The preteen girl walked silently up to a thoroughly befuddled Eragon and gave him a chaste kiss upon his lips, horrifying him slightly. The girl began to glow again, but this time from her forehead and backside. An intense flash lit the room once more, emanating from her back in the form of ghost-like, blood red wings. When they disappeared in another powerful bang, Eragon and Trianna were intrigued to see a new symbol dominating the girl's previously unmarked forehead. "By the power of my inner Grail, my Master's enemies shall be erased. I am Ilyasviel von Einzbern, and with this, the pact is complete. I await your orders, master."

Eragon just tilted his head to the side and asked, "What are you?"

Ilyasviel giggled demurely behind her tiny hand and answered, "If we're going to start asking questions, surely you could clothe me first?" And that's when Eragon realized he was standing barely a few inches away from a very naked female child.

He jumped back as if burned and said, "Right away, Ilyasviel." He turned and began to leave the room in a frantic search for clothes, with his new familiar following behind with wicked amusement twisting her angelic face.

"Please, call me Ilya," she said with an innocent lilt that didn't match the evil twinkle of her red eyes. She followed him out the door without seemingly a care in the world, skipping merrily while humming a tune. The fact that she was completely naked seemed not to concern the girl in the slightest.

Standing in the summoning room, still trying to process what happened, Trianna was staring at the spot the girl appeared from. The stone was charred black in the shape of two, dainty foot prints. "What have I done?" Trianna whispered to herself in horror.

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**A/N: Hello, and welcome to my newest plot bunny. I was reading a Familiar of Zero & Fate/Stay Night crossover in which Ilya was summoned in a manner very similar to this. I can't find that story to cite my inspiration at the moment, but it was quite good. How do you think the war will go with Ilyasviel von Einzbern involved in it? I don't have much ideas for this story yet, so if you have any please leave a review...**

**The summoning ritual was part Fate/Stay Night, part Familiar of Zero, and slightly like the winging of a Sekirei by her Ashikabi.**


	2. Ilya Meets Arya

******A/N: For those of you that care about my other stories, Transcendent Equinox got boring for me to write so it's on hiatus indefinitely until I feel like writing for it again, which might not be for quite a while... All apologies, but I did publish this :D Also, I've never had a BETA; if you see any errors, just PM me. And I only got 1 review for the prologue, but about 20 favorites and followers; that's not a good ratio at all. I've never been one to outright ask for reviews in the past, but how am I supposed to know whether it's good or not? So now you're subject to authorial filibuster by me! Mwahahahahaha.**

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"Eragon, what's the meaning of this?" asked Nasuada sleepily. She had just laid down for a good night of sleep after a hard day of politicking against the Council members that were still trying to leech power from her administration, and the veritable mountain of paperwork that she'd just finished to finalize her plans to mobilize the entire resistance group had taken several hours to sort out. She was feeling quite cranky, but her vassal was an incredibly important figure on the political and military scene, so she couldn't deny him.

Plus, he'd sworn fealty to her rather than the Council in front of hundreds of witnesses, essentially refuting those conceited hags and geezers.

The looks of shock and betrayal on their wrinkly, megalomanical faces were priceless to behold, which was just one reason why she wasn't showing just how cranky she was to him. That, and he was an attractive guy. If ever she had to arrange a marriage to somebody, it'd probably be to Eragon. He had good looks, a surprisingly adept mind in the field of politics, an undeniable prowess in military endeavors, and the adoration of the people. The idea to join him in holy matrimony was actually her father's, but the notion did have some merit to it.

He bowed. "I apologize, Lady Nasuada, but there's a situation that I feel you need to be informed of immediately. I've also requested an audience with the Dwarven King and the Elven ambassador, to tell all of you at once about... well, it'll be easier to explain it to you all at once. They should be arriving any moment," replied Eragon, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world than his current position. Standing next to him was the leader of Du Vrangr Gata, the sorceress Trianna. And in behind them was a little girl with beautiful white hair and mesmerizing red eyes.

When he mentioned the Dwarf and Elf, Ilya's eyes widened slightly, though Nasuada was the only one that seemed to notice. She assumed it was because she'd be in front of such important people, but then she remembered that the little girl did not even deign to so much as curtsy before her, while Eragon bowed deeply and Trianna prostrated herself in a show of automatic respect. Something was odd about the girl, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, though the fact that she wasn't a sycophant raised her status in Nasuada's opinion.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her dark eyes narrowing in on him suspiciously. Many possibilities raced around her mind, thoughts of his scar or the incident with Saphira passing out drunk were flashing across her neural network almost immediately. But that didn't explain the presences of either Trianna or the cute little girl that was so confident, so she threw those ideas right out the window. When he shook his head with his mouth pressed firmly into a thin line, she knew that he wouldn't be explaining anything to her personally before the other two arrived.

So Eragon, Nasuada, and Trianna stood there awkwardly for a few moments. Jormundur was standing quietly off to the side, not sure if he should even be included in whatever was going on. He briefly considered walking out, but he felt as if that would be too embarrassing. History was probably filled with countless leaders that likely only went through with what they did because it would be too troublesome to quit while they were ahead.

He felt like a raincloud was gathering over his head. And somehow, he knew that it was going to be hailing rather than raining soon.

A knock on the door sounded, and Eragon opened the door, expecting either Arya or Hrothgar to be on the other side. Instead, it was Angela the witch. She seemed a little less aloof than normal, a small bead of sweat running down her face as she looked him in the eyes. "You're one of the biggest idiots I've ever had the displeasure to meet," she said in her normally cheerful voice, but there was a slight icy undercurrent to it that sent a chill of fear down his spine. Obviously Angela knew what he and Trianna did, and she disapproved quite a lot.

"So you know what-" Eragon began, hoping to delay the inevitable with a rhetorical question.

She was having none of that, and obliquely interrupted him, "Yes I do. After you're done with this conversation, we're going to have a very long and in-depth _conversation_ about the appropriate usage and methodology of magic. But first, I want to watch the fireworks show," said the herbalist with a small fire in her eyes. Eragon shivered, realizing just now how horribly he'd messed up. If it could shake up Angela this much, who'd been perfectly fine when a full scale battle had been waged between the Varden's forces and that scourge of an Urgal onslaught, just how bad could this really be?

"Fireworks show?" asked Eragon in confusion, but a sinking feeling in his gut told him exactly what was going to happen already.

But before any more words could be exchanged, the door opened and both Arya and Hrothgar entered, with Orik, Hrothgar's son, following just behind. Pleasantries were exchanged, and all the leaders sat down at a small table, along with Angela. Eragon, Trianna, and Ilya were all left standing.

"And who, pray tell, is this?" asked Arya, her eyes fixed on the little girl. Being attuned to the energy as she was due to her racial abilities, Arya could tell that there was something inherently wrong with the child. The adorable maiden before her had more energy bound to her tiny, unassuming frame than a squad of elite Elven warriors had combined, and it was somehow contained effortlessly in her frail mortal coil. Somehow, Arya doubted that she was as delicate as she appeared on the outside.

Eragon sighed and said, "She is the reason that I've called this meeting together. This is-" but he was cut off at that point by the little girl herself.

"My name is Ilyasviel von Einzbern, and this is my master," she said in a voice that tinkled in merriment. But the girl's red eyes were scanning the leaders, observing their reactions and categorizing them based on their reaction. She could see that all were annoyed at her for having the gall to somehow interrupt someone as obviously important as her Master, a boy that could control dragons with apparent ease, but she noticed that they all had varying degrees of annoyance coming off them, and some were far better at hiding it than others.

It was one of the two that hid most of their annoyance from her that answered first. "... Your master?" questioned the one called Arya in a weary voice. The Elf had a horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach that Eragon had done something incredibly stupid, placing the security of the entire Varden in jeopardy in the process.

Ilyasviel nodded happily, in a way that somehow gave the impression of innocence despite her eyes glinting with malicious glee. The girl knew exactly the fate that she was condemning her Master to, but it was in the name of her own amusement, which was something that she could forgive herself for. "Yeah; he and this lady," said Ilya while pointing at Trianna, "summoned me in a ritual of some sort. As such, I am his Servant and he is my Master." Even though she couldn't sense the presence of a nearby Grail to aid in the summoning, she just knew that a similar system was in place.

"Oh really? And exactly what kind of ritual was this?" asked Arya suspiciously. Her steely eyes were narrowed at the Rider and Sorceress, a feeling spreading through her that she couldn't quite name at the moment. It was like irritation, but a bit more covetous than that... Was it jealousy? She couldn't say just yet, but she'd find out as soon as she possibly could, one way or another. Having feelings like this were unusual to say the least, especially since the tragic death of her last lover, Faolin.

Eragon gulped and answered, "A ritual to summon and bind a spirit to my bidding." Everyone was staring at him, judging him for his momentary stupidity as if they saw him in a new light. He'd just broken a cardinal sin, even if it were unspoken, that could have ended in a much more violent climax than it did. They were lucky that he somehow managed to summon some noble girl rather than a possessive and evil spirit, but somehow, all present could feel that Ilyasviel von Einzbern could be far more vicious than any spiritual entity.

"Why would you even try something like that without the supervision of a Master?" asked Angela, her professional veneer slipping quite caustically as she did so. The boy wasn't even a novice in the art of conjuration, a neophyte in the broadest sense of the word, and that idiot had decided that it would be a great idea to perform a ritual without first researching it, experimenting on the design, or even remotely trying to comprehend the purpose of said ritual. Did he even understand the processes involved in what he tried to do? No, and he was lucky to still be alive and in control of his own body because of his arrogance.

"Or better yet, why would you even try it at all?" asked Arya, whose voice was deadly calm. It was never a good thing, to be around an angry elf. Their demeanor rarely changed between the tranquil calm that they normally had permeating through their minds, bodies, and souls and the hardened sort of calm that shaped their being while they were angry, other than a few subtle differences in the way they held themselves and spoke. She was now quite thoroughly enraged, and the boy was too unaccustomed to Elven body language to even know the hole he was digging himself.

"Because Trianna was there with me, and she's an accomplished Sorceress too," he explained, as if it were no big deal. "She told me what to say in the Ancient Language, and I just did as she told me..." Everyone was staring at him incredulously, even Ilyasviel.

"You're such an idiot," said Nasuada, whose fatigue had all but been zapped away by the electrical fear that coursed through her body. "She could have been trying to do anything with you, and you willingly did what she told you to do without any doubts crossing your mind? How gullible of a farm boy are you? Did you not stop to think that maybe she was an agent of Galbatorix that was trying to get you alone for kidnapping, or even assassination? She could have just been using you to become a powerful Shade that would side with her master for all you know!"

"I'd like to point out that I'm not an agent of the Black King's," denied Trianna weakly, hoping that they didn't actually believe that. She saw Jormundur slowly moving towards her with anger in his eyes, and Orik's hand twitched towards his throwing axe quite obviously. Even Eragon looked at her in a horrified manner, though that might be because he actually understood the idiocy of his actions in regards to such a hypothetical situation of great magnitude,

"Of course you aren't, but I'm just trying to make a point," said Nasuada, calming both Jormundur and Orik, though both were still staring at Trianna in an accusatory fashion. "Eragon, you idiot, what did Brom teach you over the months of traveling together? A couple vocabulary words and some swordsmanship, but you need more than that. I bet Saphira was behind all of your political ability, wasn't she?"

Eragon blinked and suddenly found the floor to be much more interesting than only a few seconds ago. Arya let out a long sigh and said, "So you don't understand politics as much as you implied when you swore fealty to Nasuada over the Council; you were just following Saphira's suggestions. You also don't know how how to cast wards to protect yourself from damage, and are apparently incapable of skepticism and lack humility. The result of your numerous ineptitudes is that you went behind our backs to summon a spirit to quickly gain strength, but failed miserably and summoned a helpless little noble girl, whom you need help returning to her home, which is the only reason you're even telling us this?"

Eragon nodded, but Angela decided to accuse Trianna, "And you should have known better than to attempt something like this with someone who didn't even understand what they were doing. Were you even aware of what would happen if you summoned a spirit too powerful and it took over Eragon? What if the spirit could bind both Eragon and Saphira to their whims? What if the spirit decided to abandon the Varden, or destroy it for shits and giggles? What if the resulting Shade wanted to kill every living thing on the continent? What if it decided to join up with Galbatorix? Did you think of none of these outcomes?"

"Alright, listen up," said Ilyasviel, her voice suddenly losing the sweet melody that it once had, and was replaced with the unwavering confidence of an indomitable spirit, "I don't know where I am, or who any of you people are. But I can make several assumptions and suppositions based on what I've heard." Her eyes of ruby raked over those she was speaking too, resting briefly on the elf Arya, the dwarf Hrothgar, the human Nasuada, and the witch Angela.

"First," she began dramatically, "the Dwarven King Hrothgar seems to be the wisest of everyone present, because he waits until he has as much information as possible before passing judgement down on those below him, which is a noble trait the rest of you would do well to emulate." There was shuffling as everyone was unsure of the pertinence of that statement to the previous conversation, but the girl's impressive oratorical was throwing everyone off, a skill that she seemed to be able to employ with minimal effort.

"Second, you are all in opposition to a Black King named Galbatorix, probably named because he is more like a dictator than a proper King. You are all members of a nation called the Varden, making up a triumvirate that passes down all edicts and has almost total power over the forces, with the exception of the Elven ambassador who is essentially just a stand-in for whoever her leader is, though the human seems to have a bit more influence likely because of the manpower at her disposal. I assume humans are the dominant species of this world, for that reason-"

Upon seeing everyone jump at her last assumption, she smirked and continued, "And somehow my Master Eragon's ability to control the dragon Saphira has something to do with your success rate in this endeavor, though you need him to be much better than he already is. So he needs a tutor in the finer arts, though he's rather skilled in combat, though his magical repertoire is abysmal, likely due to a stunted education at the hands of a man named Brom, who is dead now; am I correct so far?"

The room was silent as everyone stared in abject wonder at the child. She was obviously dumped head first into this situation, completely against her will thanks to the magic wrought by Eragon and Trianna, and recovered fast enough to discover all that simply through context. It showed that she was unflappable, calculating, and perceptive. She had all the qualities of an espionage agent, but lacked the modesty and humility to do so. What kind of upbringing could she have gone through to result in something like this?

But then again, she might not even be human. Snow white hair and blood red eyes weren't exactly human characteristics as far as any of them knew. Was she a representative from some new kind of race from another world that was human-like in appearance but had elven personality quirks?

After a few moments of quiet as the leaders contemplated the explicit meaning of her words and the implicit signs that she gave away in her small speech, someone finally spoke up, "All of this is true," said Hrothgar finally, his face twitching slightly at the comment that was directed at him, "And it shows that you are a very good observer and interpreter. You're no ordinary noble girl, or even human as far as your mentality goes, and you claimed to be from another world, though more through implication than anything else. You succinctly guessed our political structure, though I must correct you; the dwarves and elves are only allied with the Varden..."

Arya snapped her head to Trianna and spoke with no small amount of coldness to her voice, "From where does she come from? You're obviously the one that set her summoning ritual up, so surely you should know-"

"Please don't talk about me like I'm not here just because I'm a little younger than you, or at least appear to be. You know, you could've just asked me where I was from, which would've saved you from looking like a fool in front of..." she said nodding silently towards a clueless Eragon. Arya's jaw clenched, wondering how the thing before her could know about her budding feelings when she wasn't even sure herself about how she felt for the Rider. Sometimes, dealing with magic could be so stressful, even for someone like her.

The Sorceress previously under fire blinked and nodded appreciatively towards Ilyasviel, who didn't even acknowledge her presence. The snowy child had only protected her inadvertently by trying to prove her dominance in a verbal jousting match. The fact that she took all of Arya's aggression off her was simply a consequence of her actions, not the end goal. She felt disappointed that the girl hadn't been trying to protect her, somewhat ashamed that she needed the aid of one so young to get out of trouble, and a little annoyed that she was summarily dismissed as unimportant by her unassuming savior.

Trianna sighed, "Besides, I don't know where she came from anyway. The ritual I used was ancient, and the only instructions were how to do it. It doesn't even really make sense in the Ancient Language, though maybe that's because I'm not fluent in it. The text seems archaic, even for something as old as that language..."

"Wait a minute," began Angela, "you're telling me that not only did you try to, and successfully I might add, convince a newbie dragon rider to take place in a summoning ceremony, but you also weren't even aware of the ritual's parameters as you went through with it? Were you even aware of what it did?" The Sorceress nodded, but seemed hesitant to do so. "I can't believe this; what kind of Sorceress are you?"

"I've been wondering about that," said Ilya, once again taking negative attention away from Trianna as she did so. "How were you capable of summoning me from my home without the aid of any amplifying devices? That level of power and ability is only something that a Sorcerer would be able to achieve, and you really don't come off as the type to successfully get that type of designation..."

"That's because I am a Sorceress," replied Trianna, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"And what makes you say that?" questioned Ilya. "You don't have anywhere near the prana reserves that I do, and I can tell from the fact that you defer to these three," upon which she gestured at the Dwarven King, Elven ambassador, and Varden leader, "that you hold no great amount of influence over the organization that you are a part of, which is impossible for someone capable of fueling true miracles with raw power. You summoned me simply by following the words of a ritual that you didn't truly understand and using a fuel source that was apparently experimental at best. I'm surprised you're still alive if you've been practicing so stupidly..."

"Why's it so hard for you to believe that I'm a Sorceress?" asked Trianna angrily, her glossy black hair getting brushed out of her face in annoyance as she did so. She was trying to pin her summons down with a frosty glare from her deep blue eyes, but the girl brushed her off easily. Then again, a creature capable of releasing as much killing intent as Ilyasviel need not worry about someone as low on the food chain as Trianna. She sagged her shoulders in defeat, wondering for the umpteenth time just what she and Eragon released unto the world.

"Because a Sorcerer is someone that can defy reality itself with their will power, using actual magic to fuel true miracles. What she did was extraordinary, don't get me wrong, but it just doesn't feel right. If you could actualize the Second Miracle, you would be infinitely more powerful than you already are. No, what you did was perform a ritualistic ceremony for spiritual conjuration, which pulled me to you because I'm... well, I just think you're trying to make yourself out to be more than you are," said Ilyasviel.

The room was silent for a few moments before Angela said, "I believe that you're operating under the assumption that magical terminology is the same between our worlds, but it clearly isn't. A Sorcerer for us is just someone that can conjure spirits to them. Occasionally they get possessed by the things they summon, and become Shades. From how you emphasized the difference between true magic and what Trianna and Eragon did, is it not too much to assume that there's a distinction where you're from that doesn't exist here?"

Ilyasviel turned to Angela with a small smile on her face. "It seems that I've finally come across somebody with a brain between their ears. Since I'm obviously in a completely different world than the one I was in prior to this summoning, because dwarves, elves, and dragons are but a distant memory there. it seems that we'll have to spend some time getting me up to speed on the history and culture around us, but I don't want to try anything with magecraft that I normally would before figuring out if the rules are different and getting penalized for it, so maybe we can discuss your system of magic?"

Eragon blinked and said, "I told you I'd explain it after this meeting..."

Ilya looked at him like he was lame and said, "Yes, but if you're as stupid as everyone around here seems to think, then I'd much rather get this sort of information from her," as she pointed at Angela. "And also, weren't you wondering what this group of leaders would do with me, which is why you claled this meeting in the first place? We lost track of that point a while ago though, if I'm not mistaken."

"I blame you for that," said Trianna with annoyance coloring her voice.

"Oh, you would, wouldn't you?" was Ilya's reply, her tone almost sounding coy.

Sighs resounded everywhere, because nobody seemed to want this meeting to go on any longer than it needed to at this point. "Well I'm not even sure what you are. Are you a human?" asked Nasuada, hoping that she hadn't just offended the girl who had an admittedly silver tongue. She got the feeling that this Ilyasviel von Einzbern was going to be the source of many headaches to come, at least for her.

"Sort of," came her infuriating response. All the leaders exchanged a glance warily, wondering just how they were going to get Ilya to say anything. She appeared to be thoroughly unintimidated by the authority that they all seemed to wield, likely either because she didn't realize just how powerful they were politically, or she realized that she could easily annihilate them all with a couple well chosen words. Only Angela, Trianna, and Arya appeared to be taking the girl truly seriously, which meant bad news for Hrothgar, Nasuada, Orik, Eragon, and Jormundur.

"Would you care to explain?" asked Arya dryly, unsure of whether she actually wanted to know the answer to her question or not. When given a clear cut question where the answer was clearly either a yes or no, and the person it was directed towards deflected it with a maybe, that person was either attempting to obfuscate the issue, wasn't sure of their answer, or were just trying to play games with the questioner. Arya had a feeling that it was all three in the case of Ilya, but the girl appeared to have thoughts going all over the place.

"No I wouldn't," she answered smugly. Everyone felt like banging their heads at the moment, crashing their skulls into the mahogany table so they wouldn't have to deal with this menace to their sanity any longer. It took a lot to get great leaders such as themselves to that point, but the combination of childlike antics and mature intellect that both manifested in Ilya and switched off depending on the situation was getting under their skin faster than a dagger coated in seithr oil.

As this was happening, the hard look on Angela's face slowly disappeared. She saw that the thing Eragon summoned wasn't some eldritch abomination from the ninth circle of hell, which was honestly one of the first assumptions that entered her mind when she felt the disturbance in the world that the girl's appearance represented. No, she now knew that Ilyasviel von Einzbern was probably one of the most amusing things she'd ever seen, and she'd been around for much longer than her complexion would suggest.

"Could you explain anyway?" asked Eragon, who was apparently completely oblivious to the slow mental torture that Ilya was dishing out to everyone around him. His simple upraising probably acted as a shield against the girl for now, but as soon as he realized that she was only being difficult because of the fact that she could, as opposed to having an actual reason or even need for it, he was going to lose his mind. Everyone could see that it would eventually happen, if not on this particular day, then on another soon.

Everyone blinked. They had all, almost simultaneously, had thoughts almost parallel with each other in regards to the girl, though none of them knew it. Every single one of them had thought that she would get under Eragon's skin in the future. Nobody had questioned that the two would eventually be separated or anything like that, only the amount of time it would take for her to finally annoy him, though Angela was the exception. She wondered how long it would take for Ilya to corrupt Eragon, which would bring her even more amusement for her in the future.

"I could," she answered, throwing everyone even more. As she stalled for time like this, she began categorizing everything that she knew, wondering what her next course of action could be before she would be giving away vital personal information to people that she may or may not betray at some point in the future. She honestly wanted to see just what the big deal was about the Black King before she did something that could bring her harm further down the road. But at the same time, she'd have to give them some information soon, otherwise they wouldn't trust her and she'd be burning a bridge prematurely, if she was even going to burn it at all.

"How would you explain?" asked Arya, her voice like a dagger. Ilyasviel entered a thinking pose as she began thinking even faster than before. Accelerated thought processes really did have their advantages, especially in a time sensitive situation such as the one she currently found herself in. She knew that dwarves and elves were incredibly powerful phantasmal species on Earth, but how did that translate over to... wherever she was now? She'd really have to find out what they called this place, before she started calling it Earth-2 or something unoriginal like that, and accidentally said it out loud.

While it likely wouldn't mean much to anybody that didn't know she was from another place, it would give anybody that was in the know an idea of what her previous home was called. Really, it wasn't that much of a jump to conclude that she came from a place called Earth if she did something like that, but she wasn't sure if that would honestly affect anything. Would it matter if they knew the name of her homeworld, or would it not? It was a risk she wasn't willing to take at the moment, so she decided to wait on something like that, at least for the time being.

After contemplating all this for about five seconds, she finally answered her question, "Succinctly, I imagine." She wondered how long it would take for them to give up if she kept doing this to their fragile minds, but she was starting to grow bored of it, and her initial goals in stalling had been met. She now had a list of objectives to go through after this meeting was adjourned, some of which would likely anger the people currently talking to her, likely even more than she already was.

"Please explain," asked Hrothgar curiously. Dwarves were a very patient, if somewhat ostentatiously proud, group of sentient beings. Her childish games wouldn't annoy him as much as the rest, but he was still dying to know her answer. For the life of him, he couldn't tell whether Ilya was human or some new thing that they'd never encountered before. It was disconcerting to say the least.

"With sugar and sprinkles on top?" she asked, still organizing her plans in her head. When everyone nodded, at least to get her to finally spill the beans, she continued, ""Well, before I do... what's the answer worth to you?"

"What?" was the collective response from the triumvirate. They couldn't fathom that somebody would willingly put them through all that torturous waiting and suspense just to demand compensation for her information, at least not somebody with a similar frame as Ilya. Though honestly, this long into their conversation with her, they should know better, shouldn't they?

"Well I'm obviously not going to be giving something so personal away for nothing," she answered happily, which everyone could begrudgingly understand. This was something that might not be important, or even their business. But, if she was something beyond human, they could probably use that to their advantage in fighting the Black King. As they nodded, she dropped the bomb, "I'd like a dragon of my own, if you'd be so kind."

"That's not possible," answered Arya immediately. Images flew across her mind of Ilyasviel von Einzbern raining terror down from the skies while cackling maniacally and seated upon a dragon of blinding white with veins of red pulsing throughout its scales. While the daydream was awe inspiring, it was also terrifying because she had a gut feeling that that was exactly how she'd use her very own personal dragon.

"And why not?" Ilya pouted expertly at the beautiful elf. She'd had to use this pout before, getting the maids to do anything that she even remotely considered to be fun was quite the chore indeed, back home. She had a feeling that now, in a world where nobody had yet built up a tolerance to the sheer amount of cuteness that she could exude on command, she could become a princess within a few short months if she truly wanted. Hell, wars had been fought in the past over a pretty face, at least in her home world. Why wouldn't they be fought here and now for hers?

"Because they're practically extinct," said Eragon sadly. Thoughts of waging war over her beauty were shattered as she remembered just what she was even asking for, barring the why. These plebeians would likely never see her coming if ever she decided to go through with becoming a warrior queen and introducing the modern technology and magecraft of Earth to this place. They'd probably oppose her though, because her methods were always to hard for most people to stomach.

"But he's got one!" she replied, pointing rather rudely in Eragon's face. Her protest was directed more at the leaders than anything else, because they were who he deferred to, and she was honestly a little disgusted at the uselessness of her Master. The laws of magecraft must at least be a little different in this new place, because he'd definitely be dead if it was anything like Earth's.

"That's because he's a Dragon Rider," answered Nasuada slowly, as if talking to a little girl that wasn't getting her way. Essentially she was, but she'd never admit something like that to Ilya, at least for the health of her sanity. The girl was uncommonly good at getting what she wanted, which was usually to inflict as much pain on those around her as humanly, or inhumanly depending on her answer, as physically possible. She'd be good at torture and interrogation, though Nasuada would feel awkward assigning such a thing to a young girl.

"So I have to become a Dragon Rider to get a dragon?" she asked thoughtfully. She'd have to figure out how to become a Rider soon, because she'd always wanted to command an immensely powerful creature to do her bidding. She would count Berserker in that category, but he was more a twisted being that evolved into a Heroic Spirit only for her to warp him even more, rather than what she was going for now.

"Essentially, but it's not that simple," answered Eragon. His tone of voice told Ilya that he was definitely holding something back from her, some piece of information that would likely derail her plans for world domination and subjugation through modernization and globalization. She felt some annoyance lash up from the pit of her stomach, because she knew that her instincts were right, at least in this particular case.

"Oh, and why not?" she asked with a pout yet again, but inside she was steeling herself for the inevitability. She knew that he was going to give her an answer that she really didn't want to hear, but she'd grown up and gotten quite a bit tougher over the course of her last few years of life, and she could take any kind of bad news so long as she could think of a way to circumnavigate the obstacles that such news would erect.

"Because they're practically extinct," he repeated again, using that same voice. Most grownups tended to use it around her when they were purposefully hiding something from her, and it really grated on her nerves whenever they decided to do such a thing. It was an affront to her, an insult to her maturity when they treated her like her actual age. She'd suffered far more than likely anyone else in the room, mostly brought on by members of her own family, yet they'd never be able to understand that.

Well, she'd just have to put him in his place by making him look like a jackass in front of Arya, who he obviously liked in a romantic fashion. "I'm aware of that, as you've already said that," she said cheerily, her mask of merry indifference belying the anger that was swirling deep within her. She was starting to imagine incredibly painful ways to both ruin his life and kill him, which was never a good thing for those that angered her. He'd come to regret treating her like a child, and he'd regret it with a big knife sticking out of his back, severing his spine and piercing his heart. The way she was taught to do it from a young age.

"But it's true. All the others are under the Galbatorix's control," argued Eragon, suddenly getting protective and casting a furtive glance over at Arya, whose lips twitched in momentary amusement at his stupidity. He was really starting to look like a total idiot in front of her, failing in the most spectacular ways almost in succession only while in her presence. And she was somehow perfect the whole time, not appearing to make any mistakes the whole time. He really wanted to ravage her sometimes, but that was more about his hormones than anything else.

As if a goddess like Arya would ever spread her legs for a filthy village idiot like himself. He clenched his fists in anger.

"Others?" questioned Ilya, latching onto the fact as if it were a lifeline in the middle of a raging ocean storm. It seemed that she'd have to help defeat this Galbatorix to even begin to consider having her own dragon, and she really wanted one. Hopefully it was a white dragon, or she'd end up mercilessly slaughtering every single person in the Varden and the Empire. None would be safe from her all consuming wrath.

Though she'd also be fine if it was red.

"Yeah. There's two other eggs and one enormous dragon named Shruiken," said Eragon. That was the story that Arya told him anyway, though her information could be completely and utterly wrong. It did make him curious though; who in their right mind would break into the King's personal palace and steal one of his most precious pieces of personal property, and also be skilled enough to actually escape with not only their own lives, but also the egg itself? Brom came to mind, but it really didn't fit his image of him, so Eragon let the thought go.

"So just take an egg from him. I don't see what the big deal is," said Ilya, who was not capable of hearing his thoughts. Eragon was quite thankful for that, actually. For some reason, he just knew that somebody with Ilya's personality being privy to his innermost thoughts and feelings would be like wrapping himself in bacon and waiting around for Shruiken. His life would be over quite quickly.

"The big deal is that they're protected by the Black King himself-" began Arya hotly, but Ilya quickly cut her off.

"What colors are they?" she asked. If one wasn't either red or white, she was going to leave now, her connection with Eragon be damned. Besides, she could always end a contract whenever she wanted, so it wasn't like it'd be the end of the world for her. Though she did wonder what the effects of using Rule Breaker on herself would be given her current circumstances. Obviously she wasn't getting energy from Eragon, because her reserves were brimming with power, and neither him or Saphira showed any amounts of energy drain. It was curious, but she could always find out later.

"I think red and green-" began Eragon, but he was cut off by Arya.

"You are an impertinent little girl. Things like their color don't matter. What matters is whether they even choose you to begin with, which means that you must have qualities that they find appealing. And breaking into Galbatorix's palatial throne room is practically suicide for anyone, because the Black King is on another level of power than anyone else completely. There's no way you could do it, yet you expect us to do it just to find out whether you're human or not? I bet you are human and just being as annoying as possible!"

Ilya was busy looking at her fingernails while Arya was talking, but as soon as she finished, Ilya said, "Are you finally done flapping that mouth of yours? Really you're quite annoying. Do you honestly think I'm weak just because of the shape of my body?" Her snowy hair began to wave slightly as power began radiating off her, laced with a miniscule amount of killing intent. A crimson aura began to envelop her, just like it did immediately after her summoning. Ilya's voice growled, "You'd be dead by now if I truly felt like it, all of you."

The aura leaked back inside her, and she grinned waspishly at a shell shocked Arya. The elf pointed her finger at the girl, her whole body shaking. "You just released a visible aura of pure energy like it was nothing! And I saw the runic symbol on your forehead! You are **Mjöðvitnir**! I-I... This is impossible..." Everyone was staring at the elf like she'd just proclaimed herself to be a purple dinosaur, while she stared at Ilya like she was a purple dinosaur that was poised to eat her in moments.

"What's that?" asked Eragon, his question exactly what everyone else present wanted to ask Arya. It sounded like an odd word even to those present fluent in the Ancient Language, and even Angela, who appeared to be damned near omniscient at some points in the past, appeared to be confused by the word, like she herself had never come across such a thing.

Angela tilted her head to the side and said, "Mind of God? But I thought elves don't have a religion. How peculiar..."

Arya shook her head, her face pale with fear, "**Mjöðvitnir**, is one of the four known familiars of the Void, the force that we know holds the spirits of the dead. She is marked with the runic symbol for it on her forehead, which means that she it one of the four... I remember something about a prophesy regarding the four coming back to Alagaesia, but I didn't pay much attention because it just seemed like a bunch of superstition to me at the time. I... need to confer with my mother on this matter..."

She got up and left the room, leaving everyone else staring at her. Then their eyes landed on Ilya who just shrugged indifferently. "I still don't see why you can't give me a dragon egg...

* * *

**A/N: Just so you guys/gals know ****Mjöðvitnir is a term from Zero no Tsukaima, or Familiar of Zero. It will add some awesomeness to this story, don't you worry. And if any of you were following me over a year ago, you'll probably remember that I had a story called 'Of Daedra and Dragons' in which the Daedric Princes of Oblivion pluck Dovahkiin from his boring life on Nirn and drop him off in Alagaesia, where he proceeds to kick ass and have copious amounts of sex with Arya. Although it was taken down, I might try to post a rewrite of it again if anyone shows interest in it.**


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